Wedding Day
by Princess180
Summary: Sequel to If I'm Not In Love With You. It's been a year since Spike came back into Buffy's life and they look like they're heading for happily ever after. But will a few unwelcome acquaintances ruin their wedding day?
1. As We Are

**This is the song 'Wedding Day', but I took the real lyrics, more as 'suggestions' so, it's just sort of the if-whoever-wrote-it-was-really-obsessed-with-Spuffy version. I hope you like the sequel, and thanks again to everyone who reviewed If I'm Not In Love With You- you're opinions make my millennium! Oh, and just FYI: I own zip. **

**As We Are **

Buffy woke up suddenly, her eyes opened, "Spike," she murmured still shaking from her dream. It had all seemed so real... he'd been back, lying beside her in the bed and they'd been talking about their dreams and she'd drifted off, and, to her, it seemed as if she'd only closed her eyes and ended up here.

"Here, love. Sorry, would have stuck around 'till you woke up, but Dee and the Bit were having another hair-pulling contest. Almost as bad as the bitty Slayers were, those two," a peroxide blonde head peered around the doorframe as Spike spoke. "You must have been right tired, getting out of shape, Slayer." He paused a moment and entered the room fully, watching the slow descent of one tear down her cheek, "What's wrong, love? Bad dream?" He kicked off his boots and settled down beside her, sliding one arm around her waist and the other began stroking her hair.

"No," Buffy said, slowly descending into reality, "just forgot you were back, again." It had been happening since just a month after Spike returned from the dead and came back into her life. She'd wake up and believe that he was still dead, normally it took her a few seconds to see something like his new duster over their bedroom chair, or feel his cool arms around her, or over her. But sometimes she was just too distraught to notice any of this until Spike himself came into the picture.

"It's been almost a year, pet," Spike said, kissing the top of her head, "we're going to have to put a giant 'Spike Lives' sign on the ceiling if this goes on much longer- I can't stand to see you hurting like this much more."

"Yeah, a year," Buffy said, tracing patterns on his chest with one finger, "we going to do the whole romantic-anniversary thing?"

"'Course we are, love, leave it all to me. Or rather William, he loves it when I let him do things like this." It had become habit to refer to William as a separate entity, though the soul and the demon had made piece, William and the man he'd become, Spike, were still very much at odds. Buffy gave an appreciative laugh.

"Well, what are you and William planning, then?" Buffy asked, not so much because she cared- Spike was a romantic and most things he did for her were perfect, but because she wanted to hear the sound of his voice as she fell asleep.

"Saturday night, I think, and don't give me that look, love, I know our anniversary's Thursday, I'm sure I'll find something to do with you then too... But Thursday we've still got a houseful, haven't we? But, I'm sure you remember, Red's off to spend some time with Kennedy- why anyone'd do that willingly boggles the mind- but anyway, she's off on Friday morning. Then, on Saturday night Niblet and the boy are off to do unspeakable things in clubs," he paused, watching with some amusement the look that flitted across Buffy's features, "kidding, love. The boy's going to go do something hopelessly stupid, but I made him promise not to summon anything very nasty."

"And as the only member of the Spike Appreciation Society I'm sure he took you're command as his wish and offered you human blood or something?" Buffy teased, Andrew's hero-worshipping ways were hilarious, and the look on his face every time he found Spike shirtless in the house was priceless.

"Like to think you're a member too. I'm going to make us a romantic dinner, something classic, maybe I'll get the Bit to help me with the cooking. And I'll go out tomorrow and buy you something, alright, pet?"

"What kind of something?" She asked, Spike liked giving her things, and the Council of Watchers had, finally, decided that he had died for their best interests and was now training a Slayer, despite some rumoured tries at string-pulling from Giles, he was being paid a rather hefty Watcher's salary, and Buffy was getting back pay as a Slayer and Watcher money. Finances weren't something they ever counted on having to worry about again.

"It's a surprise, love," Spike said, kissing the top of her head. "Which means I can't tell you."

"You can tell me," she groused, "you just won't."

"Possibly, pet. Get some sleep, you trained too long today, then going out on patrol... you must be exhausted." Spike said, kissing her again softly and running his hand up and down her spine, making her shiver. She knew she'd overdone it that day, but she'd had so much bundled up energy and the patrol had been extremely relaxing. And the bruise on her thigh that had sent him into an apoplectic fit wasn't that bad, it would heal in a day or two. The slice on Dee's hip had worried both of them far more, so she was currently recuperating, and Buffy wasn't so naïve as to think there was any chance that she was alone in her bedroom.

"Love you," she muttered into his chest, already drifting off.

Dawn had almost giggled when he'd asked her for her help. She'd managed to restrain herself at the last moment.

"You are the perfect boyfriend, Spike!" She'd exclaimed, jumping up and wrapping her arms around his neck,

"Buffy will love this!"

"I know that, Niblet," Spike grinned, glad, as she squeezed his neck again, that he didn't have to breathe. "But, well, I know her, she's going to have had some childhood fantasy about this I can only dream of living up too at this point. And you're going to know every sordid detail."

"You're right about that," Dawn backed into her armchair in the living room and smiled dreamily, "she wants a diamond, but not a regular one. She wanted it to, she always says this, ever since she was six and went through her wedding faze, or so I'm told, 'show that he loves me'. No clue what that might mean, can you write something on a diamond ring?"

"Be bloody expensive, pet, but I think you could. Have to be a damn big rock though... kind of unwieldy in a fight to have a pound of diamond on your ring finger, innit?" Spike said, considering it. "So let's chalk that one up as bloody impossible until further notice."

"She wanted him to ask her straight, very traditional, kneeling and all. You going to be able to swallow your ego whole for that one?"

"Been kneeling in front of the big sis for a long time, Bit, no worries. Now, about the whole asking that wanker in

LA thing, do I need to?"

"Dad or Angel?"

"Your Da. Wouldn't ask the great poof even if she asked me to," Spike snapped.

"That's a lie," Dawn accused, having pulled her knees up and settled down with her hot chocolate between two hands, looking at Spike, who was sprawled out across the couch across from her.

"A very big one," he conceded, "but only if your sister asked, which even she wouldn't do... would she?"

"No, even Buffy isn't that dumb. Dad probably won't even make it for the wedding," Dawn sighed. "You won't hurt her, will you? I mean, you won't go off with your sexy secretary called Felicity every Saturday night and do naughty things in cheap motels? 'Cause Buffy's had enough of that for a lifetime."

"Platelet, the closest thing I've got to a secretary is the boy, and that's only 'cause he films everything I say."

"Was that a mental picture you really needed to give me?" Dawn asked, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"You said I'd cheat on your sister, thought you knew me better than that, Bit," Spike said, a touch vindictively.

"Think that's the one thing I've never done to a woman. Dru would've killed me, and your sis wouldn't even have the grace to do that. So, you going to be home tonight to go out and look for the rock to totally empty my bank account with?"

"Yeah, soon as the sun goes down?" She asked, it was a Saturday morning, and her plans for the day involved lounging around the house and maybe getting in a bit of Andrew torture while she was at it. Helping Spike pick out her sister's engagement ring had just been a bit of a bonus added on. She noticed, while still thinking, that Spike had nodded and left the room, probably to go get some sleep. He was up most days, but tried to sleep between noon and five, so as to keep his internal clock from turning off.

Dawn thought that if she ever got into a serious relationship, she wanted it to be like Buffy and Spike's. She lived with them and knew all the ups and downs, there was fire there, and they were constantly playing with it. She'd heard their fights, and learned some very interesting new expletives from them, also a lot of new ways to slice and dice certain more... delicate parts of the male anatomy. Apparently Buffy and Anya had had a few good chats about her vengeance demon days, either that or her sister was far more imaginative than Dawn had ever thought.

But she'd also seen the flip side of all that passion, one of her clearest memories of the past year was a night about six months ago. It had been an exceptionally ordinary day, Buffy had trained all morning, been exhausted and curled up with Spike all afternoon while Dawn and Dee were at school and Andrew was off doing whatever Andrew did whenever he wasn't bugging someone. Spike had, for some reason, had one of his rare fits of domesticity, and made them dinner. It had been an amazing steak- sautéed to perfection, and Buffy had been impressed. Dawn had gotten up from the table a little earlier than everyone else, clearing her plate and cutlery as she left, just as she was putting them down in the sink for someone (she was guessing Buffy) to wash them later when Buffy said, apparently completely out of the blue.

"You have no idea how much I love you, Spike," she'd just said it, in a softer voice than she normally used, but that was it, no change of expression from the soft smile that had been playing across her face since Spike had announced his plans to cook for them.

"I know, love," was all he'd said, but Dawn had noticed the way he was stroking her back and looking into her eyes, and the way she was playing with his fingers on top of the table, lifting them and letting them fall back on to the wood with small 'thuds' every couple of seconds. She and Willow had realized that, were they to feel inclined, they could have caused an apocalypse at that moment and it would have totally flown over the head's of the two people sitting chastely in front of them.

Not, Dawn thought, that they were always chaste. Damned thin English walls had left her spending many nights in Dee's room. And she wasn't the only one who noticed the games of footsy at dinner. And she'd been the unlucky fool who'd walked in on a quickie in Spike's new car the day after he'd bought it (she'd insisted on sitting in the passenger seat since), though she was told that Andrew had interrupted more times than could be counted and was just past due for death if he ever entered their bedroom without knocking again. Dawn wondered, some days, whether what Buffy and Spike had was normal, was this how people in love always acted?

She was nineteen, she should have known by now. She blamed it on them, actually, the first year she'd been actually alive, her biggest influence had been Spike, a man who loved with all his being, whether it had a soul or not, contrary to popular belief, she'd never had a crush on him. A couple fantasies about the wicked things she heard Buffy telling Willow he could do, but, well, she was almost twenty and she was still a virgin. It had always been more of a Xander thing in Sunnydale, and since then Spike had been either dead or firmly taken. And then there was Andrew.

That felt pathetic. But she knew he had feelings for her, and she also knew he wasn't quite as annoying as he had once been, at least not to her. But, though there were sparks, none of the feelings Buffy had ever described to her were there. Which is why she wondered if she were modeling her wants and needs for a relationship on something she could never hope to achieve. They'd been through so much together, she knew that, and she'd been the only one around to see Spike after Buffy's death, and Buffy after Spike's. They had been going through hell on earth. And she'd seen the look on Buffy's face this past year- that soft smile that she'd never once seen before. Hard, cynical Buffy had was gone, replaced by a girl who relished in the fact that she got red roses from her boyfriend and who was about to get engaged.

Dawn heard her sister's giggle emanating from the kitchen, then something low, Cockney, and undeniably suggestive that she couldn't quite catch. Buffy's giggled, "absolutely not, Spike," she caught with clarity. A resigned sigh, a promise of some alone time later, and one or the other stalking down to the training room in the basement while the bedroom door closed, then the bathroom door slammed.

"I HEARD THAT PET!" Echoed from the basement. How, Dawn thought briefly, before retreating to her room to get headphones in case this turned explosive, could someone who didn't breathe have so much lungpower?


	2. And We Have Found Our Crumb Of Hope

**And We Have Found Our Crumb Of Hope**

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Hope you like this chapter, I'm starting in on a Spuffy All-Human right now, hopefully, so updates will be less frequent from now on. But the A/U should be fun! **

**Disclaimer: I know Joss owns it all, I just wish I did... I mean, then we could have a Spike spin-off, with a heavy side of Spuffiness. **

Buffy didn't know how he managed to do these things. Dee had still been getting over the deep slice to her hip last night, so Spike had volunteered to run a quick patrol. Operative word: quick. He'd promised to be home in time for Friday video night with Dawn. As a gesture of thankfulness Dawn and Dina had let them have one Spike-friendly video- something ridiculously gory none of them wanted to watch. But the quiet patrol had gone wrong and Spike had gotten trapped in a crypt in an extremely old cemetery until the sun went down. She thought she could at least be thankful she'd thought to force her cell phone on him before he'd left so he could phone them.

"I'm not going to primp for you..." Buffy swore she could hear him cocking his eyebrow at her, "ok, maybe I am."

"Right, love you too." And she hung up rather harder than she'd meant too.

"Problems in Buffy-and-Spike-land?" Dee asked casually from the table, where she was flicking through a teen magazine and sipping coffee.

"He's an idiot," Buffy declared, sitting down with her own coffee. "He got himself trapped outside in daylight, which means my anniversary dinner is totally delayed."

"The anniversary dinner he's been obsessing about for the past week?" Dina asked, "I think he's going to pop the question." Buffy opened and closed her mouth several times.

"Which question is that, exactly?" Buffy managed to ask her charge finally.

"The big one. Diamond ring and all. I mean, was I the only one who didn't buy the excuse about needing to take Dawn out to get blood from the butcher's because he'd forgotten where it was?"

"Spike... ask me too..." Buffy trailed off, fantasies she'd had, if she wanted to be completely honest, since he had returned to sanity, playing wildly through her mind. "I doubt it, I mean we play normal and all, but we're not. I'm a Slayer, he's a vampire. We can be together, in the real sense, but married? I doubt even Spike's that much of a romantic..."

"I don't know about that, he's pretty intent on giving you everything you want, Buff," Dee said, "I kind of wish I could find someone like Spike. I mean, he wants you to be happy, and he would do anything for you, you know

that. But he's just so-"

"Loving," Buffy finished as Dee floundered for a word, "and I don't deserve it for a second. We were engaged once before, and it was amazing- I remember that, even though I think I treated him a bit more like shit after that."

"You were engaged?"

"Yeah, before the soul, though. It was a spell Will did that went just a little bit wrong," Buffy explained, as the witch in question entered the kitchen.

"You talking about the incident that had me making cookies twenty-four seven for a year? Not to mention figuring out some really funky herbs to put in Spike's blood, which he still hasn't thanked me for..." the redhead said, ignoring entirely the two shocked looks.

"Thought you were going to go see Kennedy," Buffy said, wondering whether her day could get any worse. First Spike pulled a disappearing act, and now it looked like they wouldn't even get the house to themselves.

"She, well, let's just say I phoned her last night and she didn't exactly seem like she was going to make with the welcoming so I decided I'd rather stay here." Willow looked over her shoulder at Buffy, "stop giving me that look. I'll clear out so you and Spike can still have your flowers and romance night in. Where is the Bleached Wonder, anyway?"

"Got himself trapped outside in the middle of the day, currently hiding out in a crypt," Buffy explained. "And thanks, Will, if you need to talk about anything... my love life is angst-free enough at the moment to pay some attention to yours."

"Kinda a first," Willow joked, sitting down beside the two Slayers.

"What can I say? I date jerks, and pigs."

"So the calm currently is?"

"Goofed up somewhere, ended up with a nice one," Buffy smiled dreamily. Willow still found it weird to see Buffy in such a normal relationship, well, normal by their standards. She was sure there were a lot of people who wouldn't consider a couple who had met by trying to murder each other normal. She just didn't happen to be one of them.

"Nah, we've been on the rocks a while, to tell the truth, this visit would have ended with this anyway. And I promise, no bad-engagement spells this time. I mean, let's say I hit you and Andrew this time. Doubt Spike would be as understanding as Riley was," Willow grinned as Buffy made gagging motions.

"Like they need a spell, am I the only one who thinks they'll be married by the end of the year?" Dina asked the two older women.

"I think they will, Spike's obsessing way too much over tonight for it not to be more important than just a romantic thing," Willow nodded in agreement. "Plus, the man knows the city like the back of his hand, needing Dawn, who couldn't find her way out of a paper bag, to take him to the butchers?" She waved a hand dismissively. "They were doing something else. I'm saying buying Buffy a big, pretty rock."

"Still in the room here!" Buffy interrupted, "and I still don't think Spike would propose."

"Why not?" Dina asked her Watcher.

"He's Spike, the man who likes to believe he's the Big Bad, wears all black, has the smallest, fastest, most irritatingly showy car in existence, and likes to flex his muscles just for the hell of it. He abhors romance when it doesn't end in him getting some or isn't on _Passions_." Buffy explained, "he won't ask me to marry him. He's still... insecure about taking big steps for us. Why wouldn't he be? If I ever want to marry him, I'll have to ask."

"Do you?" Willow asked her.

"Maybe, someday," Buffy said, "but I'm happy where we are now. And that's saying something. I mean, it's Spike and me, we love each other but we're, how did Dawn put it that time we kept her up half the night screaming at each other? Volatile. Plus, I'm still flying high on the fact that he came back to me. I don't think I could ask any more than that."

"You thought he wouldn't? You two both know the guy better than me, but Buffy the man loves you. In a very big way."

"Big, scary way," Dawn added, coming into the room.

"True or false, Spike knows exactly where the blood butcher's shop is?" Dawn fidgeted at Willow's question.

"Can't answer that without getting my head bitten off," she replied, edging out of the room.

"Should Buffy be expecting to get anything shiny tonight?" Willow asked the younger girl.

"I wouldn't know," Dawn replied, "in fact, I don't really understand your question in any way shape or form. So I'm going to leave and... be gone."

"Definitely something very fishy going on here!" Dee crowed, just as the doorbell rang.

"I'll go get that, try not to make any other totally impossible suggestions while I'm gone," Buffy threw over her shoulder as she left the room in her sister's wake. Though she'd never admit to anyone that a thousand different images of Spike asking her to be his wife were flitting wildly through her head . But she was sticking to her guns on the fact that no matter how much they pretended to be normal, they would never be able to do something so... perfect. But she wasn't getting her hopes up, the man couldn't even do what his body was programmed to do- get the hell inside before the sun came up- so how was he going to guess that he could take an absolutely huge step in their relationship?

She sighed, the events of that night in the bathroom, while firmly in the past they tried to let interfere with their present as little as possible, still had huge repercussions. But they were getting smaller, he was getting used to being able to actually, really be with her. And she was slowly but surely getting used to getting taken care of, sometimes. Though he was going to have to get used to the fact that when she was on patrol, things that came up behind her and didn't breathe got a stake in them, she'd almost dusted him twice in the past year and didn't ever want to come that close again.

She couldn't lose him, she knew that now. It would be impossible for her to lose him, her man, her monster, her everything. Buffy had always been afraid of that, of letting someone totally consume you, because then, when they left, you did too. You simply ceased to exist, as you had been with them, without them. She'd almost let it happen with Angel, kept far away from it with Riley, and then there was Spike... After he'd died, she'd realized that she'd fallen in love with him in that scary, all consuming way that she'd always avoided. And then he'd come back, and she'd given in. So that now, when he'd been gone for less than twelve hours (sadly she was counting), she actually missed him. These were the thoughts running through her head as she opened the door, expecting it to be her ever-intrusive elderly neighbour who she didn't like. The woman was totally enamoured with Spike though, who had introduced himself to her as 'William' for some obscure reason.

"Buffy," the man at the door said, and Buffy was abruptly taken from her romantic reverie.

"D-dad?" Buffy asked Hank Summers, who was standing at her front door

* * *

Fifteen minutes later a very shell-shocked Buffy was playing some fast improvisation games to explain their living situation. She would be the first to admit that it was ridiculous, and Spike was going to have a fit when he found out that he was now Andrew's brother-in-law, not to mention Dee's brother. And she highly doubted that anyone believed that Willow was their live-in maid. But, since her father knew nothing about what had really happened in Sunnydale (they all got a good laugh out of the 'freak earthquake' stories), she couldn't really explain the absence of Spike when they had spent a week with him two years earlier on the path to Europe. So, with that one, she'd stuck as near to the truth as she could.

"Spike was in the high school when it collapsed- it was one of the first buildings that did- and we all thought he died. He showed up hear a year ago, he had been-" Buffy made eye contact with Willow, who looked back as if to say 'yeah, well, you got yourself into this sweetie'. "Very ill. He didn't want to cause us any more pain." Dawn was looking at her sister oddly, though, after her father had arrived, she hadn't been much better off than Buffy.

"So, Dad, what brings you to this continent?" Dawn asked, eager to get the topic off of who was living in their house and why.

"A big meeting, then I remembered that my two girls are living here and I thought I'd stay an extra week or two and see you- it seems like we never talk any more," Buffy, with strength normally reserved for swan-diving into portals, stopped herself from making a snarky retort or retching. "I didn't realize I was coming to such a... full house, you got room for your old man?"

"After the earthquake it made us all realize our priorities, family was definitely one of mine," Buffy said, "that explains the house, I suppose."

"Uh, Buff?" Willow interrupted, "Dawn's kinda the only one here related to you." Buffy shot her a death glare. "In the technical sense, of course, but doesn't this house feel like a family? One big happy non-murdered family!" Willow looked peppy for a moment, before leaving, tugging Andrew, who had been lounging with his camera on one of the counters with her. "Come on, Andrew, let's go see your wife. Hope you live through this one."

"Yeah, I'm gonna go do some schoolwork, k? You two should chat, catch up, Dad and I'll find something to do together later," Dawn said, exiting the kitchen before her sister or father could protest. She only felt a little bit guilty about it, after all, he wasn't _technically_ her father, and _technically_ they'd never met before. Dawn cringed and could swear she heard Spike's voice saying 'and that's a reason to put your sis through hell with that wanker, love?' in her head. She honestly hated the part of her mind that spoke in his voice. At least when it was Buffy's voice it wasn't using annoying pet names.

* * *

Buffy had spent the rest of the afternoon with her father, and at five when the sun went down enough for Spike to be able to get home, she had developed a habit of running to the door whenever she thought she heard a car. Her father had been horrid and unreachable and patronizing and at that point she would have done anything to have Spike to back her up.

When she heard his key in the lock on the front door she didn't even bother to excuse herself as she dashed for the front hall. Burying her face in Spike's neck before he had even stepped into the actual house.

"I take it you missed me, love," Spike greeted, not particularly disappointed with the welcome. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissing the top of her head.

"That's part of it," Buffy said, "and you know I worry about you. And, well, you know how it's supposed to be our anniversary tonight?"

"Yeah, love, had a faint bit of a clue after all the nagging about what I was giving you and the almighty scolding I got this morning." Spike said, pulling back and assessing her outfit of a loose white shirt and a pair of well-faded blue jeans, her cross necklace was balled up in one fist, a wooden one today. He noted the severed edges of string protruding from her fist before she set it down on the table as she pulled him into the house. He assumed she must have ripped it off before hugging him, and was thankful that she'd remembered for once. They both forgot from time to time what they were, and made these little slip-ups. But the cross-shaped burns were something he could live without.

"Well, it's kinda off," Buffy said.

"Apocalypse?"

"Worse. My father."

"That bloody wanker?" Spike said, clearly angry. "You didn't let him stay here, did you? Because if so than God help me Buffy. I know I've done some horrible things in my day- but what that man did to you, Joyce and the Bit is unforgivable."

"I know that Spike, but he's my father. I can't just turn him away," Buffy sighed and rested her head on his chest again, "please, just back me up on this one?"

"I've always got your back, Slayer, you know that." Spike placed a chaste kiss on her shoulder. "I think this is only going to end in you and the bit in tears, and I think it's one of the most monumentally stupid things you could do. But I've got your back."

"I'm not deluding myself by playing happy-families, Spike. I'm very firmly in the shiftless-absentee secretary-screwing sperm-donor Daddy world. But if he's trying, even a little bit- doesn't Dawn deserve that?" She looked up into his eyes, "don't I deserve a little bit of fantasy?"

"You deserve the world, pet," he smiled at her, "but the man gets on your nerves and you must have done some damn good footwork to explain Dee, the boy and Red."

"Your sister, her husband and our maid. I think Andrew's the only one who's remotely happy with the

arrangements."

"I would never let any sister of mine marry Andrew."

"She eloped then. Fabricate all you want. Fantasyland until Daddy dearest leaves. Besides, Spike, what was I supposed to say 'Daddy, get the hell out of my house, my evil-undead boyfriend holds grudges'?" Buffy asked him, "I couldn't just kick him out."

"You know the invite thing? Should work with everyone. Run into a solid wall if they don't want you, always gave me a quick tip-off." Spike grumbled. "I'm going to go get changed, set myself up for the whole meet-Daddy gig. But if he tells me to take care of you I cannot be held responsible for my actions."

"Just don't turn him. I hate it when I have to kill close family members," her eyes fell slightly and Spike pulled one of her hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on it to distract her from what he did quickly to the other one.

"Don't want to keep that man alive longer than is strictly necessary," Spike said, before placing a quick kiss on her lips and leaving the room, making his way down the hall. Buffy raised her hand to run it through her hair, which she'd left hanging loose. She was surprised when something caught in it, she knew she'd gone totally jewellery-free today. She pulled the hand down to see if she'd snapped a nail and then she saw it.


	3. When Lightning Strikes

**When Lightning Strikes **

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed as always, and sorry about the wait. RL interrupted (don't' you hate it when that happens?).**

**Disclaimer: I own nada. **

It's funny how your entire life can change in a few seconds. Buffy Summers knew, at twenty five, exactly how frequently it did happen, but still, when she caught that glimmer on her ring finger, her heart skipped a beat and preceded to fly to her throat.

Resting on her left hand's ring finger was a small gold band with a square-cut diamond, then on either side of it, two small round rubies, spinning her hand to examine the band more closely, she noticed a tiny inscription on the back of the band it said:_ Nunc Scio Quit Sit Amor_ covering the entire thick band. She knew it was one of his favourite quotes, in one of their hazy talks while they lay in bed together, completely sated and happy, he had been murmuring memorized poetry to her, and the line by Virgil had floated in somehow: _Now I Know What Love Is_.

Buffy slipped it back onto the ring finger of her left hand, examining it carefully once more before taking off after Spike and tackling him onto one of the kitchen chairs, landing on his lap. She covered his face with kisses, finally settling on his lips for a slow, long, languorous kiss, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. When she finally pulled back, she rested her forehead against his breathing heavily and keeping her eyes closed.

"Were you going to ask me?" she murmured finally, her lips touching his as she spoke, brushing softly, not quite kisses, but not quite accidental either.

"I was going to, tonight, but with your dad here I figured I'd never get you alone so..." he trailed off, running his hand up and down her cheek softly, "and I know you can't resist me." He gave her his trademark cocky smirk.

"OK, so maybe it was kind of guaranteed I would say yes. But still," she grinned, "déjà vu." Then she looked at his left hand, where the skull ring he'd given her when five years ago was on his smallest finger. "Glad you went with a more feminine look this time."

"You see the quote, love?" He pulled her hand from his neck and brought it to his lips before flipping it over, "now I know what love is." He quoted, then kissed her again on the lips, "it was high time I made a respectable woman out of you."

"Did Dawn help you pick out the ring?" Buffy asked, turning so she was resting against him instead of straddling him, all thoughts of her father in the other room gone.

"Yeah, the Bit had a fun time emptying my wallet," Spike smiled, "you like?" Buffy just smiled and bent her head back to kiss him underneath his chin.

"I would have liked it if you'd given me the skull and you know that."

"Yeah, I do," Spike admitted, as close to sheepish as he ever came, "but a bloke needs a compliment once in a while on his fiancée's baby sister's taste," he smiled down at her as they both relished in the sound of the word 'fiancée'.

"I love you," Buffy said, playing with his hands, which had come to rest on her abdomen.

"You're in love with my hands," Spike remarked, Buffy was forever playing with his long pale fingers, or tracing the faint lines along his palms, and he had no clue why.

"I'm in love with all of you, I'm just focusing on them right now," she argued, pulling one up to kiss each finger individually. "I'll move on eventually, remember, it was your hair for a while? I was always playing with it. I'm considering your eyebrows next, I love the scar," she smiled and turned to trace it with her fingers and then her tongue. "Oddly satisfying." She decreed, relaxing against him once more. "But I still like your hands. And then there're your shoulders they're good too. And the hollows of your cheeks are nice. You've got the thickest eyelashes, stunning. I don't mind your feet, but they're not quite on the top ten. Thighs, definitely. Ass," she ticked them off on her hands. "And of course my favourite," she smiled lightly, waiting for the chance at innuendo she had just given him.

"Think I know what that is," he said, taking it cheerfully.

"Most definitely number two, but no," she wiggled in his lap a bit for the benefit of the body part in question,

"your eyes. They're gorgeous."

"Thanks, love. But I'm not feeling very manly after that," Buffy laughed appreciatively. "Care to help me feel a bit more macho?"

"As much as I'd love to screw you into our mattress," a pause to delight in the image, "we're going to have to wait until later. Go change. I've got a gift for you, too. But you're going to have to wait for that, too" she got off of him as she spoke and kissed his lips one more time before she left. "Be handsome and noble for me." She called back.

"I love that woman," Spike murmured to the empty kitchen after she had left.

* * *

When Spike appeared in the living room a few minutes later, he was presented with one of the strangest sights he'd seen in over a century. Dawn and Hank Summers sitting by the fire and throwing bits of newspaper in, laughing, while Andrew had Dee sitting on his lap (he noticed that Dawn was occasionally taking a moment to glower at them), and Buffy and Willow were in the corner, giggling and examining Buffy's ring. Buffy noticed him coming into the room first and gestured for him to come over.

"You look good," she said, looking him over appraisingly. He was wearing one of his three (she knew, she'd counted once when she'd been in a bit of a Cordelia mood) non-black shirts, this one a light blue that brought out his eyes, he wasn't wearing a t-shirt under it, and his pale collarbone was revealed, just begging to be kissed.

"Thanks, Slayer, you don't look so bad yourself," he nodded at Willow before settling beside Buffy on the couch.

"You told the Bit yet? She's been going on about how I should just 'get up the guts' to ask you since I bought the ring."

"I just told Will, I figure I'll introduce you as my fiancé to Dad and let him figure it all out on his own," she smiled up at him, "love calling you that."

"Love you," he smiled back at her, leaning down for a quick peck, before he noticed that Hank had finally realized he'd come into the room and was standing in front of him, trying to look fearsome. However, it's a bit pointless to try to scare a man whose favourite hobby was once skewering people with railroad spikes. Hank Summers didn't know that, so continued to try and stare Spike down, hoping to illicit at least a greeting. Buffy sighed heavily, wondering if she could have actually cut the air between her father and her lover with a knife, and if she should try- or just have one handy in case Spike needed to be restrained.

"Dad, this is my fiancé, Spike. Spike, this is my dad," she said, finding Spike's hand to hold in a bid to calm him to some level of civility. They continued to glare at each other, Buffy realized she should have made Spike promise to at least try to get her father to like him. "Say something, one of you," she snapped finally.

"So, you finally popped the question," Dee said after another uncomfortable pause, during which everyone swore Spike's eyes had flashed yellow for a minute.

"Yeah," Spike said quickly, tearing his eyes away from Hank Summers. Maybe he was being overprotective, but the demon in him wanted to tell this man that these were _his_ women and this was _his_ family, Hank had lost his chance. And yes, that was his Victorian mentality coming out, but he didn't care. And, no, he wasn't counting Andrew- he didn't care what happened to him. Or at least that's what he was going to keep telling himself. "Got up the nerve."

"Finally," Dawn grumbled. Spike and Buffy both assumed that the bigger problem was not the fact that her father was there, but the Dee and Andrew touching that was currently going on, so didn't really react to the total lack of enthusiasm on her part.

"Oh! This will be so romantic the vamp-" Andrew was presented with three glaring people, all of whom he knew would have no trouble, moral or otherwise, with killing him. Well, he reflected, maybe Dee would have some moral trouble killing her _husband_, then he snickered and realized he was still being glared at ferociously. "-ish woman and the very strait-laced good-husband-material man?"

"Vampish?" Dawn said after another awkward pause. "Is that a real word, Andrew?" So what if she was speaking to him, the married-to-Spike's-sister thing hadn't really been his idea and it wasn't as if they were in a relationship- yet. Right, strike that one from the record. She was just horny, Andrew was male, not in love with her sister, not Xander and lived in her house, that was it. Sum-total of their relationship.

"Think so, Spike?" Andrew interrupted Spike's continuing staring match with Buffy's father, Buffy next to him was fidgeting nervously.

"Yeah, Spike, is it a real word? Spike's really good with err, word-y stuff," Buffy smiled up at her father and got a look from Spike that just screamed 'are you absolutely barmy, pet?'

"Don't think it is, Bit, no," Spike said, looking away from Hank, who stalked off towards the fireplace to sit with Dawn again. Spike made a mental note to have Dawn be extra nice to her sister after Hank left, he knew it had to hurt his fiancée that Hank felt entitled, and was given, Dawn's love and respect when she herself was constantly working for it. Willow got up to go sit on the floor by Dawn and help with the fire, as the father and 'daughter' team had been failing hopelessly. Remembering Buffy he held out an arm, which she slid under, letting her head fall just close enough to his ear to whisper in it.

"Play nice or you aren't getting any for a month," she hissed.

"Never said I had to, just said I had to be here," he grumbled, "and I'm here."

"Be here better," she commanded and Spike made a face.

"I'll make an effort if he does."

"Did you get the soul of a two-year-old?"

"Five, actually."

"No way do you have the maturity of a five year old."

"Miss But-Those-Are-_My_-Pillows has no right to get uppity on me."

"You were on my side of the bed!"

"'Cause it's a damn tiny bed and I was exhausted."

"Well, you don't have to sleep in the 'damn tiny bed' if you don't want to. The couch is perfectly comfortable, or so I'm told."

"Pfft, the boy harasses me when I'm on the couch."

"And what happened to evil creature of the night?"

"Slayer endurance." He whispered, leaning down to give her ear a quick nip.

"What did I say about being good?" Buffy said, but she leant her head aside to give him more access as he began to place kisses on her neck.

"I'm always, very, very good," he mumbled into her neck.

"Mm... no, my father's in the room... yeah, right there... Spike, honey, you've got to... oh!" Buffy gasped as he bit down softly on her jugular, had he guessed what his present was? "No, Spike, stop. Now." He continued, knowing that eventually she'd give in. "_Spike_." He murmured something unintelligible against her throat, "I love you, but you know how you don't ever want to have sex in front of Dawn and if you keep doing that I might just..." She paused, then pulled his ear up to whisper something into his ear.

"Closet, now," he hissed. Buffy realized that tempting the horny vampire may not have been the best idea- but the look on his face was just priceless...

"Bed, later," she replied, thinking more along the lines of 'floor, thirty seconds after we get alone'.

"Yeah, bloody right," Spike murmured relaxing against the back of the couch, having given up, his arm stayed lightly around Buffy's shoulder.

"Effort and I'll think about the closet thing," Buffy said to him.

"Agree to the closet now and I'll make effort," he spat back.

"You really know how to get a girl in the mood, don't you?"

"You want flowers and unicorns about a quickie in a closet?"

"Maybe."

"Fine, say yes and I'll give you the flowers. No unicorns though, always had a thing about those..."

"_YOU'RE SCARED OF UNICORNS?_ You, the Big Bad? Unicorns?" Buffy started laughing at her fiancé, who was looking just a touch ticked off, as the rest of the people in the living room looked over at them, puzzled.

"Unicorns, Spike?" Dawn said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Thank you, Watcher Junior." Spike replied, then he looked at Andrew, who had just opened his mouth to make a comment.

"They are kind of creepy," Andrew said, after a moment of considering whether pissing Spike off was a good idea. Buffy was still laughing, her face now buried deep into Spike's chest as she tried to get her breath back.

"Unicorns?" Dina managed between bouts of laughter, "dear God, Spike!" Willow had collapsed on the floor, Spike was almost pouting on the couch as Buffy continued to giggle hopelessly into his chest. Hank was looking him over speculatively, as if to see how he'd react. Spike bit back the urge to throw Buffy on the couch and torture (known to the rest of the world as tickle and kiss) her until she apologized, or at least admitted that they were kind of strange looking, but he realized that Hank wouldn't exactly go for that, he knew from what Buffy and Dawn had told him that their father was, and always had been, reserved about physical affection. It wasn't actually that he wanted to impress the man, it was just that, in his own way, he respected him, mostly because of Joyce. If Joyce had loved this man once there had to be some good in him, or so Spike half reasoned, plus, no sex for a month sounded kind of scary.

Horny undead, here, folks, got to keep that in mind.

So Spike settled for looking as close to sheepish as he got and sending Dee and Willow evil glares trying to make them stop laughing. He hated himself for this, but after the painful two years when seeing Buffy laugh was a rarity, laughter from her, even at his expense, was a precious commodity to him, he could never chastise her for it.

"I love the fact that inside you're a toddler," Buffy murmured, when she had gotten out of her laughing spasm.

"And I love you."

"So, what does everyone want for dinner?" Hank said, loudly. Both Buffy and Spike realized that until he left, romantic moments were going to be in short order.


	4. I Was Burnt By Your Light

**I Was Burnt By Your Light **

"So," Spike said to Buffy, who was lying on their bed, after an incredibly stressful supper that night, he was towelling off his hair, and trying to think of a nice way to tell her that he'd punched a dent in the shower wall by accident (he'd meant to punch through it).

"So."

"This hasn't been the best evening for us, has it?"

"No, but thanks for sticking around. Though we could all have done without that 'demon in the sack' comment."

"Would you have preferred I told him you were attracted to me because you had just died and were running a little low on judgement at the time? Because I could have done that, love."

"That's true, as far as it goes."

"As far as it goes? How far does it go, exactly?"

"It's not considered polite to make sexual innuendos to your future father-in-law."

"You know the word innuendo?" Spike cocked his head at her, he loved the Slayer, but she could always be trusted to stick with the two-syllable easy-vocabulary words.

"I resent that! I am intellectual modern woman with half a college degree who can stake your undead ass!" She said to him as he sat on the edge of the bed beside her and appraised her red silk full-length teddy that left very, very little to the imagination.

"Sure you are, love, sure you are. And you're all mine," he smiled at her, "you mentioned something about screwing me into the mattress earlier?"

"I want to give you your gift first," she looked him in the eye, "well, it's more like two gifts, and one of them is from Willow, but she wanted to let me tell you and..." she trailed off as he brought a finger to her lips. "Tell me if you don't want it because I don't need it I just... sometimes I..." She sighed. "I'm going to start this right. I love you more than anything on this earth and I always will. Sometimes it feels like I always have. I can't imagine my world without you," Spike opened his mouth to speak, she mirrored his gesture of a few moments earlier and put a finger to his full lips, "no, I'm only going to be able to say this once, and I've only just got the nerve to do that. So shut the hell up for once and let me explain.

"So, as I was saying, I love you. You make me happy, you have made me sad, you've made me cry far too many times, and when it all comes down to it, you make me feel. You're there to catch me when I fall and I will always trust you with my life, no matter what. Which is why I want to give you the first thing. Because I trust you, which is something I can say about very few people- the people who live in this house, Xander, maybe a few of the other Slayers. But, as for the point, I want you to bite me." Spike opened his mouth to protest, even if he wanted it just as much as she did, he _wouldn't_ hurt her like that, and he _couldn't_ let her do something like that for him. He didn't deserve it. "No. No speaking, I'm not done. And, just because I know you're going to say it and I want it the hell out of the way, you do deserve it, it won't hurt and I want to do it. Earth doesn't revolve around your head, you know." He grinned, there was his Slayer. "Bright enough." She grumbled, then she looked back into his blue eyes and took a deep breath.

"I don't want you to get mad when I tell you this," she said finally, "and I'm not making any promises when I tell you. It's just a... possibility, I guess, a little one. OK, well, maybe little, maybe not, it needs a lot more prepping than I wanted Willow to do without telling you about it first." She looked at him, "maybe I shouldn't even tell you... not tonight. Some other night, a long time from now, when we've had to fight something really big and you're too tired to yell at me and maybe punch me and possibly walk out that door and never come back..." Spike lost it and interrupted her.

"And you're never going to know if you don't tell me, sweetness. And we're remembering that every time I walk out the door I'm coming back," He finally lay down beside her, "how can I make it easier for you to tell me whatever this is?" He asked, knowing it was making her uncomfortable, and worried that it was something terrible or that it was something amazing at the same time. He didn't know how much more happiness he could quite take, and he was still a bit stuck on the 'bite me' bit.

"Close your eyes," she said finally, "roll over and pretend not to be here. I've practiced this so many times since Will told me and now I can't say anything because I'm afraid I might hurt you."

"Why do you think this might hurt me."

"You're still here," Buffy pointed out, slightly angry. If he was going to offer to make it easier and then not do it he could just not know. Oh dear God, he was rubbing off on her.

"Fine, I could always actually leave, you know, pet. Write it down, whatever it is, might be easier for you."

"You know I'm worse at writing than I am at speaking," she said, "and it's not as if this is a bad thing, well, not for me, in fact, for me, it's a really good thing. But I don't know, if you take this the wrong way... It could ruin our whole- us. So, remember, this isn't me saying I want to be with someone else, or I want you to change, I love you, just as you are. I only want you. I'm yours, completely, entirely. Alright?"

"Of course I know that, my love. I know that, I would never doubt it. If whatever this is will make you happy- I'll support it one hundred percent, you know that, too." Spike pulled her to his chest, placing a quick kiss on the top of her head.

"It would make me happy, but I want you to want it, too."

"Love, tell me."

"I didn't ask, but Will caught me taking birth control pills and asked me why I bothered anymore. And it was about two weeks ago, that night I had just a little bit too much to drink, and I'd just hit the crying stage, I guess.

I just, broke down about how I had always thought that if I lived to be this old, I'd have the 2.5 kids and the white picket fence. And Willow said she didn't think any of you would let me actually get a white picket fence because we have too many pointy wooden objects in this house already, but I could still have the kids, if I wanted. Not helping much, because we've talked about this- sperm donation would probably do you in, and you don't technically _exist_ so adoption's out of the question, and I told Will that, but she just made one of those little 'humour the dumb Slayer' noises. I still don't really get it, but apparently, it has something to do with the fact that everything is connected- so when someone dies, even when someone gets vamped they leave a bit of themselves imprinted on the earth. And, with some major Willow mojo, we could turn that imprint-y thing into a... a kid. Our kid." She paused and looked at him, he was looking at her, amazed, almost reverent. Finally. He pulled her over to him and kissed her softly.

"I love you so much, Buffy," he murmured when he had finally pulled away. "Of course I want that, too, Slayer. I want to have children- other than Andrew, of course- filling up this big house. But I'm worried that I won't be able to do as much as you will. And testing?"

"Not on you. On me. The whole death thing could have made it so I can't..." she trailed off and he wrapped his arms tighter around her, "but we don't know yet. Will's just going to do a bit of Wicca stuff to find out. Pretty standard I think."

"Won't hurt you, will it, pet?" Spike asked, creasing his eyebrows.

"You're sweet, you know that?" Buffy grinned at him, "I don't think I tell you that enough. So, you're all set to deal with moody, pregnant Buffy?"

"Somehow, I think it's going to be worth it," Spike murmured, kissing her again, along from her lips up to her ear, taking the lobe between his teeth for a few seconds before whispering into it. "Thank you."

Spike kissed his way back up her neck, finally coming to rest at her jugular, kissing it, tentatively biting down with blunt teeth, teasing her endlessly. Finally he vamped and she pulled him up, his face still ridged, to kiss him, running her hands delicately over his forehead and kissing the ridges as well, finally, wordlessly, she led him back to her neck. He sunk his teeth in, silently, still, pulling her blood slightly, marking her as his, biting just above the scars from the Master, Angel and Dracula, obliterating them and leaving his own markings on her at the same time. He didn't take much of her blood, he had promised never to hurt her again and he wouldn't. This was about making her his, not about drinking her blood. He slowly sealed the wound with his tongue and came to her lips, letting her taste herself on him, flowing through him.

It was the most wonderful thing she'd ever tasted, her taste mixed so deeply with his, she'd never really tasted blood on his lips before, he'd taken to mixing it with beer, or coffee, trying, she thought, to hide from her. If he did drink it straight she insisted he brush his teeth before kissing her, but now... this was heaven. It occurred to her that she'd never really tasted her own blood before, when she'd been losing her teeth she'd always washed it out quickly, never thought to stop and wonder if it even had taste... and learning that, mixed with the mix of tobacco, beer and just plain _Spike_ that she knew so well, it was one of the most wonderful tastes in the world.

He slid the teddy off of her, pulling away to look at her, she never failed to amaze him, and finally switched off the bedroom light, leaning over her. His girl. His Chosen One.

* * *

Buffy's eyes opened lazily the next morning, she could faintly hear the noises of breakfast coming from the kitchen, but she wasn't at all interested in leaving the cool circle of Spike's arms, her head rested on his bare chest. She tried to move slightly, to get more comfortable, and felt a bandage on her neck move slightly- he must have put that on after she'd fallen asleep, she smiled faintly and curled more tightly into his embrace, raising a hand to trace the outline of the bandage, and the outline of the familiar scar on her neck. She smiled, feeling where he'd bit her- Spike was nothing if not possessive, and just the look on Angel's face if he ever noticed it would make his century, she knew that. Buffy's face broke into a smile at that thought for some reason.

"I love you," she said reaching up to push some of his curls from his forehead.

"Love you, too, pet," Spike replied, not opening his eyes.

"Thought you were asleep?"

"I was," he replied, pulling her up for quick kiss. "Reckon we should go and face the lions?"

"I never really want to get out of this bed," she replied, her forehead still resting against his. "Really, what else do I need?"

"There's slaying, can't do that in here," he said.

"There are much more entertaining things to do with vampires," she teased him. He quickly changed their positions, so he had her wrists caught up above her head and was straddling her.

"Vampires in general?"

"Ensouled ones," she amended, he cleared his throat and glared. "You," she conceded finally, "only you."

"Knew Brood-Boy wasn't' good in the sack," he said after pulling back from a quick rough kiss. "But we've still got to get out of bed, deal with Papa Summers, play a bit of kick-the-annoying-manboy, maybe talk to Red?" He said the last part almost shyly.

"Maybe. And I've got wedding planning to do!" Buffy said suddenly, sitting up and pushing him off her. "Do you want a spring wedding or a winter one? I guess it doesn't really matter because we'll have to have it at night to avoid having to register and Mr and Mrs Big-Pile-of-Dust but still... I don't want a summer wedding because we'd have to wait a whole year and I don't want to do that because I'm not getting any younger. But English winter is so depressing and Xander hates rain so he might not be able to fly down to walk me down the aisle. And who are you going to have as your best man? I mean it's either Andrew or Clem, you don't really have friends outside the Scoobies and we're all girls, except Xander... Plus I don't think he really likes you so much. So friends isn't exactly the term I'd use, mutual enemies who love me enough not to kill each other. I think. And where is Clem, anyway? I mean, when was the last time you two talked and-" Spike cut her off by placing a hand very firmly over her mouth.

"Whatever you want, pet, as long as I get to stick with black and _Wind Beneath My Wings_ is in no way involved. It'll be your day. Now hush," he smiled as she made an attempt to bite his hand just before he lifted it. "Shower." He commanded, directing the Slayer with a pointed finger. "Now. It'll calm you down." He gave her a slight push off the bed and she went, still smiling faintly.

God, it was good to make her happy.

* * *

Buffy had pulled her hair back into a ponytail and dawned sweatpants and sweatshirt to go outside the confines of their bedroom later that morning. The voices from the kitchen had stopped half an hour ago, and she could only assume that Dawn had gone to school, Willow to work (she tracked Slayers worldwide for the Council, there were still hundreds to find), Andrew to go reign over all the other nerds, or whatever it was that he did all day out of the house and Spike and Hank had stalked off to respective corners of the house to shoot glares in each other's general directions occasionally. As she slid out she found her father still sitting at the breakfast table, typing furiously and talking on his cellphone.

"I'm with my daughters... no... their mother passed on... we were divorced... twenty five and nineteen... big house, no clue... not particularly... I understand... no, we shouldn't do that... well, yes, but Marcus is an idiot... I know he blew that wide open but this is too... of course I used that... it's not tax evasion, Roland... in a way... it's simple... expert hackers... noon," he clicked the headset off. "Morning, sweetheart," he said, "sleep well?"

"Very," she smiled, "do you have meetings today?"

"Yes, yes, I do, but not for another couple of hours. Why?"

"I was just wondering," Buffy lied smoothly, knowing she had a date with Dina and a punching bag that would be a bit difficult to explain, especially since she'd been planning on sparring with Spike to get warmed up and that always got out of hand. "I think I'll be staying home for the day, Dee too, she's taking a year off school," she lied again, Spike was home-schooling her, Dee having been expelled from her school for getting into a fight on school grounds. "And Spike never goes out during the day. He's allergic to sunlight. Gets all crispy real fast."

"Really? That must be terrible for him, "Hank said, Buffy could tell her wasn't really interested.

"It is," she replied, "have you-" Buffy was interrupted when something incredibly large and blue crashed through the kitchen window. Buffy reacted instinctively, pushing her father away from the table at the same time as she through a kick and yelled. "SPIKE! KITCHEN! DEMON!"

Spike was up the stairs a few short seconds later, tossing the knife he kept in his boot to the fighting Slayer from the safe shadows of the stairwell to the basement. She caught it with ease.

"Dormenghast Demon, love, stab it in the forehead, shape of a cross if you can, you'll do better that way- it's likely to die the first time."

"Good- it'll just take a minute. Get my dad out of here. Send Dee down. Oh, and who'd you piss off this time? Aren't these things normally paid hunters?" She said, unleashing a quick series of punches to distract it from her wrists motions towards it's forehead, it wasn't fooled and caught her hand with one long-clawed clammy hand, slicing down her forearm but luckily missing any important arteries. "Shit- this was a new shirt," she said as blood poured out onto her arm, "you are so paying for that. Oh- and Spike?" She called after the vampire who was know ushering a very shell-shocked Hank out of the kitchen and calling up to Dina, "try to explain the Slayer thing before I'm done. You know how that one goes." Buffy quickly took an opening and was straddling the demon with her knife going quickly through the cross sections on its forehead. "Make it quick!"

Spike shot a quick look back at the girl to see that she was handling herself before taking Hank into the living room. This was going to be interesting. And Buffy was going to have a fit when the thing dissolved into a sticky goo on the floor.

* * *

"Love?" Spike knocked on the bathroom door, after having left Hank in the living room to stew for a while before he had to break the news to him. Besides, he'd been worried about the cut on Buffy's arm- she'd lost blood that night and the cut had been deeper than he would have liked.

"Yeah?"

"Can I come in?" He asked, he knew she valued the fact that her father still thought of her as a normal girl, thought that maybe it created some of the closeness between them, even. What there was of it, anyway.

"Sure. Why'd you even ask?"

"I do have manners, you know," Spike entered the bathroom, quickly walking over and taking her forearm in his hand. "This needs disinfection, pet. I'll do it."

"That's going to hurt more than the demon slicing me open," she complained, "I'm fine. I'm a Slayer. Leave it be."

"Fine, when your arm turns green and falls off, don't expect any sympathy from me," Spike said, getting out the rubbing alcohol and a few cotton balls. "Now stand still, love. And no whining."

"I may yet drop another piano on your head," she grumbled as he set to cleaning the ten-inch cut. "That hurts, Spike!"

"Like I said, now sympathy. So, what're we telling dear old dad?" Spike knew that there were things they'd all prefer to keep from him, like what his younger daughter really was, and probably the fact that Buffy had died twice.

"Not Dawn," Buffy said finally, "but what you are, obviously. If you go all bumpy it'll at least make him think I'm not insane. And I suppose we can tell him who Dee really is, but I don't want to dish on Will without her permission."

"Keep Red out of it then," he said.

"Yes, and we can tell him how we met, but maybe no specifics. And I have I mentioned _ow _lately?" She grimaced for affect.

"Couple times, love, yes. Now relax, worse things have happened to you." He pulled a few bandages out and set them over the wound. "I won't close it, it should be gone come morning. But no ripping it open until then. You lose any more blood and you'll go all woozy." He smiled and at her and pressed quick kiss to the top of the bandages as he finished putting them on. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."


	5. I've Found Home Again

**I've Found Home Again **

**A/N: Alright, I'd run out of possibilities with my Hank plotline, but the story is definitely _not_ finished. It's probably going to be a good deal longer than IINILWY, but hey. Thanks to all the reviewers, and if you feel like suggesting anyone else you want to come into the story, I will definitely consider it! Everything is Joss'. **

"I have a holy calling, Dad," Buffy began, her head resting on Spike's shoulder while her father sat in one of the armchairs across from them. Spike had wrapped his arms around her and was looking at Hank and telling him very clearly with the look that if he made this any harder for Buffy than it already was, he would regret it. "I've been something called the Slayer since I was fifteen. I used to be the only one too, but I'm not anymore, which is probably the only reason I'm still alive."

"You're in some kind of cult?" Hank said, clearly puzzled.

"No, Dad, not exactly," Buffy considered it. "Not at all. I think you have to volunteer to join a cult. I didn't really get a choice. I guess you need some background info. Vampires exist, so does pretty much everything else you've heard of, except the Easter Bunny. Right?" She looked up at Spike.

"My lips are sealed on bunny-shaped demons," he smiled down at her, slightly sad, "Anya."

"Yeah," Buffy paused, then she turned back to her father, "I take it you don't believe me. No one does, at first."

"Buffy, I want the truth what was that- thing?"

"This is the truth, I can offer a lot of proof, Dawn could talk to you, Willow- who by the way, is my best friend from Sunnydale and not our maid- Dee- who's a Slayer, too- any of them could tell you I'm telling the truth. But I've learned two things in telling people this- you've got to make a vampire take a giant leap towards becoming dust, or you've just got to have one around. Seeing as I don't feel like dusting the only vampire in this house-" Hanks eyebrows went up and he shot Spike a look that clearly said 'is she insane?" Spike just glared back at him.

"We'll just have Spike show you how the whole thing works. Not to bad, really, once you get used to it. And don't do that growly thing you did when we had to tell Dee's dad, honey, it just creeps people out."

"Yes, dear," Spike said, sounding heavily resigned, he quickly slid into game face and looked defiantly at a decidedly scared Hank.

"Do you believe me now?" she asked, after giving Hank a few seconds to appreciate Spike's demonic façade, and let herself get used to the Slayer feelings that side of him always brought out in her.

"What _is_ he?" Hank finally managed to stutter out. He was rewarded with a growl from Spike, who was still in game face.

"He's a vampire. Except not so much with the evilness any more because he got a soul. It's really kind of complicated for beginners. Let's just say that Spike isn't anything to worry about unless you hurt me or Dawn," she paused, "or, you know, screw around with his _Passions_ tapes."

"I resent that!" Spike said, glad that she was lightening the moment a little bit. Even if it was totally inappropriate, he hated it when she was sad.

The next forty-five minutes were spent explaining to Hank as well as they could what Buffy's world was really like, and who she was.

"I'm not quite sure how to answer all that," Hank said, finally, when Buffy, tired of talking, had turned into Spike's shoulder, burying her face. He felt something suspiciously like tears, but understood that for some reason she didn't want to let her father see how the memories of the past nine years of her life made her feel. Maybe it was just to prove that she was a Slayer and she was strong, or maybe it was just all the memories assaulting her at once. Especially the ones about Angelus, he had tried to stop her, but she'd gone into detail on that, and almost exclusively that. Things like Oz, Riley and Cordelia had remained periphery, but Angel had taken front and center for a good fifteen minutes. Spike's Slayer-killing days had been let rest a little bit, and he wasn't going to take issue with it. "I think I need some time to think." Then he got up and left the room, making a hasty retreat up the stairs. Spike felt a sudden urge to throttle his fiancée's father.

"You did well, pet," he said, rubbing her back soothingly, "if nothing else, at least he knows now." She sobbed harder. Right, then, that had been the wrong thing to say. "It's alright love, he'll come round in time, with luck." This time she actually raised her head up to give him a withering glare before moving away from him. "What in the bloody hell do you want me to say, woman?" No one had ever made the mistake of calling him a patient man.

"I wanted a thank you, at least," she said, finally, "for saving the world and all that." Buffy started crying again and Spike's arms quickly went around her.

"Hush, love, it's all right. It's probably just going to take him a bit to get used to it, then he'll realize that you risk your life to save gits like him. It must be a bit difficult to grasp all at once, pet." She just pulled herself so she was entirely on his lap, continue to cry, words coming out occasionally, but not making any sense.

For the life of him, Hank Summers couldn't remember why he'd disapproved the previous night when he'd found beer in his daughter's fridge. She was a grown woman and God did he need the alcohol. These were his thoughts around the third beer when a bleached-blonde pissed off demon stormed into his room where he had taken the six pack.

"To get things straightened out here, I don't like you and I don't want you in this house. You make Buffy and Dawn unhappy, and you just tick me off. But I've been told I have to have you here and I have to treat you with some respect. Now, normally, I'd listen to the Slayer, but you've crossed a line. Your daughter- she may be many other things but that's what she was first- is downstairs crying, why? Because you won't thank her for saving the world a few more times than most people have."

"Look, Spike I don't really think this is any of your business," Hank interrupted his soon to be son-in-law.

"Trust me, it's my business. Now you are going to take yourself down those stairs, thank her and apologize to her until I am satisfied. And you are going to mean it. March." Hank shook is head firmly. Spike took a moment to reflect that was the first time in the past hundred and fifty odd years that _anyone_ but Buffy had refused him when he took that tone. "You didn't have a choice, mate."

"I prayed my whole life that my daughters wouldn't get involved in my world," Hank said, turning to look at Spike. "Or rather my father's world. He was a Watcher, fourth generation in the family. I was in training to be one too, until I met Joyce. I realized that I wanted to have a normal life. Then, of course, it turned out that I was a bit of a bastard and ruined whatever chance at a life she had at all. Pinned her down with two kids and ran off to do whatever I wanted."

"So, you realize that, at least," Spike said, trying to appear unruffled. He realized, of course, that he was failing miserably, and gave up quite quickly. "Your father was a _Watcher_?"

"Hardest day of his life when I decided to go to law school, even Harvard Law. Probably especially Harvard, Dad always wanted me to come back here, learn to do what you people do. And then when Buffy was born- then Dawn- it just seemed like there were other people saving the world. 'Cause it hadn't ended yet." Hank looked up at Spike, who was looking possibly even more repulsed than he had before this speech.

"Other people doing it? Speaking as one of those people, I'm very sorry I bothered," he looked down at Hank, composure regained. "I don't care what daddy-dearest issues this has brought up. You _will_ go downstairs, and you _will_ make things right with your daughter or you _will_ find yourself with an extremely short life expectancy." Spike fixed him with a look and actually lifted him off the bed by the collar of his blue shirt, "and I'd advise you stop drinking. There is nothing Buffy hates more than the smell of beer. Well, except me, but I'm a special case."

"Right," Hank said, deciding discretion was the better part of valour. "I do love my daughters, you know." He didn't know why he felt he had to apologize to this vampire, maybe all his father's teaching had left him after all these years. Or maybe it was seeing the way Dawn had talked to Spike this morning- animated, giggling, a hand on his shoulder, looking so much closer to him than she ever did to her own father.

"I'm not the one who needs to know that, mate," Spike said. "They are."

"They know," Hank said, dismissively. "Fathers love their daughters. Simple as that, they just know." Spike looked at him as if he had suddenly grown antlers.

"You actually believe that _tripe_?" Spike said, with a laugh, "Dawn and Buffy have no bloody clue whether you even remember them, Hank. After Joyce died were you there for them? No. Were you there for them after Sunnydale, in any way other than financial? No. And did you even know the hell her life was for a year after that? And the summer after she was in tenth grade- the girl was depressed and you bought her _shoes_. You may love them in your way, but they've no clue."

"Well, do they love me? Did either of them ever once come to visit me after Joyce died? Did they ask for me to come and help out?" Hank asked, rising up off of the bed to stand level with Spike, noticing, for the first time, that he wasn't actually all that tall. He just gave off the impression, Hank even had about an inch on him, not that he'd ever consider getting into a fistfight with the vampire.

"Would you have come?" Spike spat back, angrily. Then he quickly bit it back, "alright. I'm not your problem right now, and I want you to go fix things with your daughters before either of us start throwing punches." He then looked at him, "if you've known about all this your whole life, you probably don't want me any were near Buffy or the Bit. Let me give you a bit of advise on that one- don't air those thoughts around either of them. Me, I couldn't care less, but they tend to get kind of jumpy."

"Jumpy?" Hank enquired, looking slightly puzzled.

"It's a nice way of saying they stop liking you for a little while."

"You're a bit conceited aren't you?" Hank said, only half joking. He smiled at the vampire who loved his daughter (he wasn't going to question it after this display).

"A bit, yeah," Spike agreed, looking over at Hank. He admitted, privately, that if Hank earned his Slayer's forgiveness, Spike might concede to getting along with the man. _Might_.

Spike had made a retreat to the upstairs library (sparse library, mostly full of books he'd picked up at used bookshops in markets that stayed open all night and a few rare books he'd made trades for in the demon markets) after his talk with Hank. He had found Dee sitting in her bedroom looking hopeful about not having to do anything that day.

"Read something, pet, it's good for you," he had called on his way past. He was a very caring teacher, really.

Downstairs, Buffy had managed to pull herself together enough to move from crying on the couch to going into a very hard workout downstairs to try to bring on some endorphins. When Hank walked into the room she ignored him, delivering a kick to the head of one of the dummies and looking speculatively at the fencing swords they kept on the wall. Spike had disappeared once she'd become coherent again, saying something about going up to the library to read over some ancient prophecy. Though she was pretty certain he'd been lying- Spike had always been a terrible liar.

"What do you want?" She said finally after her father had been watching her for five minutes or so. "If Spike bullied you into apologizing I don't want to hear it." She flared out one last time at the dummy before turning to face Hank.

"He did. But I figured out I kind of owed you one anyway. And maybe an explanation about a few things," he looked over at her. "Whatever else you might be, you were my daughter first."

"Spike said that," Buffy accused, protective walls going up around her. She would not let this man ruin her life- again.

"Yes, he did. But he was right," Hank said, grinning his little-boy grin that didn't reach his eyes.

"Stop it. You can't just pretend to like my boyfriend and offer to reveal some made-up deep truth about yourself and make everything all right again, Dad." Buffy snapped, "that hasn't worked since I was sixteen."

"What if I told you the truth?" Hank asked his daughter, "about a lot of things. Like why you never met my father, or why you've never seen my passport."

"Look, Dad, I know all about the weird and the wacky. You are pure human. Don't try and fool me," she snapped.

"Maybe it would be best if I introduced myself first. I'm Hank Winters," Hank said to the fuming Slayer, "and I've know about the Slayer since I can remember."

"That's nice, Dad, you ignored me because you _knew_ what I am, and now your going to come and make nice? What are you, a Watcher? Or better yet, one of those nutjobs who spends their life hunting down Slayers so they can kill them and call forth new ones because the vamps are getting bored? Or, maybe you're one of those oh-so-pleasant people who thinks that Slayers are just little girls with pointy sticks who need help killing the vampires because we only have super strength and you all have Y chromosomes which are so clearly more important. But, there's also the Initiative- I wouldn't put it past you to be one of them. I mean, if marriage means nothing to you, your soul must mean even less. And if you can get a decent price from the government why not go for it?" Hank stood across from her as she ranted, getting progressively more excited and stepping towards him. "And _Winters_? Even if you are telling the truth _I_ know more about disguises than to go from Winters to _Summers_."

"I was kind of hoping we could do this without yelling, Buffy," Hank said, after a few moments had passed. "I hate it when people yell at me. But you were right with the first one- my family were Watchers and I was in training. When I met your mother I told her I was a law student and got kind of interested in it, so I went with it. I didn't change my name to hide, just to get my father angry at me."

"And you didn't get in touch at all with the Watcher's Council? When it was still in existence, I mean. Once a Watch-"

"The Watcher's Council was destroyed?" Hank spluttered, interrupting his daughter.

"Blown up, three or so years ago. I pretty much run the new Council- Demonology Council, if you want to get into it. Most people still call it the Watcher's Council, though, and a few of the mouthier members call it Buffy's Council, or the Slayer's Council," she cocked her head at him. "The upper echelon's of the old one were all killed in the explosion. I had to reconstruct."

"Do you think we could start this whole father-daughter relationship over again? It's kind of become a bit obvious to me that I've done it wrong."

"Yeah, you did. But I've screwed up a lot of relationships over the years and I always get forgiven. I guess I could give it a try," Buffy said after considering him for a moment.

Spike clunked down the basement stairs in heavily a few hours later, he hadn't heard anything from there since the violent punching had stopped and he was really hoping to find everyone still in good health.

"... And then, because it just seemed like the obvious thing to do Dawn tries to stake him with a cardboard box- it just crumbles and the vampire starts laughing hysterically, which gives Dee the opportunity to get a real stake- even though Spike's still cracking up against the wall instead of helping like he was supposed too." Spike heard his Slayer's voice saying, he slowed down and paused to listen.

"I still can't believe the council is paying a _vampire_."

"I still can't believe Spike's willing to work for honest money. OK, it is still the Council so a bit corrupt and no one knows where the cash comes from but still. I mean- he's got to be the best pickpocket in the world."

"Thanks, love," Spike said, making his presence known. "I take it you two had a bit of a chat?"

"We did," Buffy said, "and we've fixed up a few things."

"That's great, sweet," Spike said, coming the rest of the way down the stairs and kissing her on the top of the head before sliding into the seat next to hers on the leather couch they had in the corner near the fridge. "I might even be able to get to like him now."

"I'm sure that makes him feel so much happier," she laughed, "makes me feel a bit offended though. Thought you'd be all righteous and he's-a-horrible-father for months. Don't you love me anymore?" She giggled as he swooped down and put kisses along her collar bone.

"Of course I do, pet," Spike replied, "why don't you finish up your story for your father- I should get that window fixed sooner rather than later." And with that, he left the two to reconcile.


	6. Now And Forever

**Now and Forever**

**A/N: I'm sorry for the lack of updates. RL and exams followed by writer's block, the idea that this story might not be going anywhere, a complete despair of ever completing anything ever again and some other stuff made me sad enough not to write. Again, sorry. Alright, so, with the AU-ness. Dru doesn't know that Spike and Buffy are together or ever were. Angel and Cordelia are together, Connor is about five (no Holtz, just _ not_ ever). I fully understand that this chapter totally sucks, that there is very little plot action and that I never did say where Willow and Andrew and Dee were but um… think happy thoughts that I posted it? **

Angel, Buffy had long ago decided, could be the most aggravating person on the face of the earth when he wanted to be. But, he played by his rules, one of those rules, she had learned, was to avoid Spike at all costs. So, when a bit more than six feet of drenched vampire had shown up at her door half an hour ago, the last thing she had been expecting was to be shunted to the living room while the two vampires locked themselves up in the library.

Another of Angel's rules was to never, ever explain _anything_ to anyone, especially her, before the world depended on it. So, when he'd swept in side her house the moment she'd invited him and the first words out of his mouth had been a command to get Spike, she hadn't been surprised. She hadn't obeyed, but she hadn't been surprised. What had surprised her was when her vampire did appear he gave one look to his grandsire, took one deep breath, nodded and they were both up the stairs. The only sounds she'd heard after that were the locking of the library door, followed by the unlocking of the liquor cabinet that Spike kept in there.

She had tried to eavesdrop, but one or the other of the vampires had heard her and Spike had come out, wrapped his arms around her waist, and told her to bugger off, he'd explain everything later. She had grumbled a bit, and Spike had told her it was family, that he loved her, and that she might do well to call the hotel where Angel was staying and have Cordelia and his son come somewhere vamp's needed an invite to get into. That was when she'd gotten worried, the apocalypse she could have handled, but she knew very well that the only family Spike and Angel had in common any more, mostly thanks to her, was Drusilla.

The idea of Drusilla actually terrified her, she knew that Spike the man loved her and the demon had, kicking and screaming, gone along with what the man asked. But Dru was the vampire's sire, and she knew that meant obedience, and complicated rules. And it meant she was in the same country as the bitch who'd hurt her man, which never meant anything good.

Sighing heavily, Buffy picked up the phone and dialled the number her boyfriend had given her.

"It's just Dru, Peaches," Spike shot at his grandsire from his chair behind the oak desk, his feet planted on it, while Angel stood at the window, looking at Spike with a practiced air of annoyance and grudging affection.

"I'm telling you, she has a plan," Angel replied.

"And I'm telling you that she's not half sane enough to make a plan and stick with it."

"She turned half a coven, you're telling me she that just for kicks?" Angel retorted to his insolent grand-childe.

"You're the one who told her pure things are the best," Spike told him, "took everything you said to heart."

"I know that," Angel snapped, "but Dru's always hated witchcraft, or at least last time I talked to her-"

"More than one way to skin a cat," Spike said, apparently randomly, and noticing the look from his grandsire, he elaborated. "Dru hates magic 'cause of the soul- or souls, she should know- and she knows how you lose yours, either you've gotten around that or you're a hell of a lot brighter-"

"I hurt your girl, I'm sorry. Can we not?" Angel interrupted.

"Doesn't mean I'm not pissed, but anyway. Let's say you're right, and Dru has found someone else to make her plans or she's made her own and turned a coven for a reason, she's done it to get one or the other of us back to ourselves. And I'm betting it's me."

"Egotistical much?"

"You sound just like your girlfriend, you know," Spike said, "then, again, assuming you're right- which would be weird- I'm her childe, the only way I can attack her is if she tries to hurt my mate-"

"So, she wants to get to you, we both know she has to go through Buffy first."

"Are you that out of touch with your demon, man? I _claimed_ the Slayer, 'cause I knew Dru wouldn't notice, minions used to get away with it under her nose all the time and I never told her, but if we were mated, that'd be something she'd notice."

"Buffy let you claim her?"

"Yeah, when we got engaged, it's none of your business, Peaches," Spike replied, knowing that this conversation was going to spiral completely of topic very shortly, and it was either going to be hell or very, very funny. He was hoping for funny.

"She knows what that means?"

"We went over it, yeah, it was nothing that wasn't there already. She's mine," ah, hell. Why did it have to be hell?

"And you're…"

"Hers, body, demon and soul."

"But she…"

"Can't claim me in return, because I don't much fancy Dru pulling her heart out of her chest."

"You would have said that was poetry."

"Dear God, Liam, you know me. I'm not about to hurt the woman I love."

"Hasn't stopped you in the past. And don't call me Liam."

"You called me William for twenty-odd years, payback's a bitch. And that is absolutely none of your bloody business. It's different now, alright? She trusts me."

"It's not, my business, I mean," Angel concedes, shocking the younger vampire. "It's just, I worry about her. Actually, about both of you," Spike's only response was a quirked eyebrow. "You are family, you know."

"That wouldn't have mattered to you," Spike echoed Angel's words.

"Never killed you, did I?"

"'S only 'cause you wouldn't keep stakes around, 'case Dru got out of hand," Spike mumbled under his breath, but decided not to say anything his sire could hear, because he couldn't imagine the Slayer would be happy if he started a fistfight.

"You aren't the only one with vampiric hearing, or smelling. And why do you let her cook?" Angel said, slightly angry, but not enough to bring it up. Even if they had gotten phenomenally sidetracked, it was quite probable they'd be working together until they could figure out what Drusilla was doing. "So, with Dru, you can't fight."

"It'd be awkward if I did, what, with the demon obeying her, can't say as I'd be much use to anyone."

"The demon…"

"It's no wonder you didn't know how the curse worked," Spike groaned, "the demon is subservient to Dru, I don't give a damn one way or the other, I'd follow my Slayer to hell and back, have a couple times, but that's not the demon. Demon loves the girl, but it knows who made it, who it owes life too."

"So what you're saying is you couldn't fight off the demon to hurt Dru?"

"Probably not, or at least couldn't keep the demon from killing whoever was trying to get to Dru while I was trying to get the deed done myself. How is it you don't know these things?"

"How do you know them? I've never seen you reading something that wasn't poetry or porn. Do they have vampire-lore poetry now?" Angel asked, "or is there a handbook?"

"Watcher. We know everything, or that's what Buffy told me before she gave me the big lecture on vampires with souls. God knows what possessed her to find out, literally, probably. And no, no handbook. Plus, earned it, knew what I was in for," Angel looked at the Englishman oddly for a moment.

"She really loves you, doesn't she?" It was quite, and a horrible thing to say. Angel did have Cordelia, and Connor, but Buffy had once been his salvation. The idea that she could love another man as completely as she loved Spike was strange and terrifying for him. Even if he had left so she could find someone else, he had never expected her to actually do so.

"She loved you once, too," Spike said, sensing through a bond that had almost no right to have survived his relationship with the other vampire, that it was the first time Angel had really admitted it, and not being able to let him hurt. As Angel had said, it was family.

"Once," Angel said, sullenly. "What makes you long-haul guy material?" Spike avoided about three obvious comebacks to Angel's question by getting up and walking over to the door and breathing in deeply.

"You're right, she is cooking, and she's probably right pissed off by now," Spike groaned, "you know I'm going to tell her everything you've told me about Dru, right? What I know, she knows, it's just how it works with us."

"All of it?" In the past hour or so, they'd rehashed every bad thing either of them could ever remember the other doing, briefly resorted to making things up and called a few hesitant truces. Spike cocked his head to the side, thinking.

"Yeah," he said, "I'm not worried about what she thinks of me. Lesson you should've learned, she never wanted a redeemed you, or a human you, just you. And I've stopped trying to fight my way through to heaven."

"You don't want redemption?" Angel asked, even as Spike put his hand on the doorknob and began turning it.

"Don't know that I believe in it," was the only reply he got before Spike was out the door. The younger vampire was halfway down the stairs by the time Angel had turned to go to the liquor cabinet.

Later that night, Cordelia, Angel and Connor had been settled into Dawn's room (Dawn was spending a few weeks in a friend's dorm to see if she liked it), Buffy silently slid into her own bedroom, where Spike was already in bed, lying on his back, which was unusual for him, and staring at the ceiling.

"Hi," she said, sliding her clothes off and grabbing one of his shirts before sliding into bed beside him and wrapping her arms around his torso. When Spike didn't respond she started talking, "Connor's sweet, isn't he? I was surprised something cute could come out of Darla, or Angel, actually. And I can't believe Angel and Cordy are a thing, I mean, she had a crush on him way back in the when, but then there was Xander, and some demon guy or something," Buffy grinned and curled closer to her fiancé. "I'm happy Angel's got somebody, you know. I kind of always thought he'd stick around pining for me forever, which is stupid, because he's not the type. To, you know, mope around in love with someone for like, more than three minutes," Spike gave a weak smile and Buffy congratulated herself.

He'd played with Connor for hours and avoided the 'grown-up' conversation, as he'd referred to it. Through the conflicting haze of thoughts about Drusilla ('that bitch won't lay a hand on him') and what a good father Spike would make ('dear God, did he actually just take him to brush his teeth?'), she had noticed that he was keeping an ear on the conversation, just not joining in. And Buffy had known that no matter how well he was hiding it, he was hurting, which had to be stopped. She knew that no matter what happened, he was hers and not Drusilla's, she wasn't jealous, not really. Just wanted to watch Drusilla die. That was all.

"I know you're worried about what'll happen with Drusilla," she offered, "I trust you. And if you don't fight, you don't fight. One of the reasons I love you, you can let me go be a big girl, Angel and Riley tried to… I don't know, pick my battles. You never did that, just ready to fight beside me when I asked. And, yeah, sometimes when I specifically told you not too," that last part elicited a noise that Buffy decided could be identified as a chuckle, and she cuddled even closer to her fiancé, burrowing under one of his arms, resting her head in the spot that wasn't neck or shoulder where it fit perfectly. After a moment of comfortable silence, she spoke again. "I never loved Angel the way I love you, you know. I always thought that no matter what, nothing could ever hurt him. Even after I killed him, he was, I don't know, solid. And with you, God, half my time is spent worrying about you. But at the same time, I know that if it's at all under your control, you'll come home to me at night," she reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

"It's my fight, with Dru," he said finally.

"If she tries to hurt you, it's mine," Buffy said, sitting up to look him in the eye. "And I know you can't fight her unless we…"

"We don't know that she knows about us, sweetheart, and I'm not risking her finding out, alright?" Spike said, still quiet.

"If she does?"

"We talk options."

"Which are?"

"I don't know, sweetheart, I honestly don't know," Spike sighed. "You're right though, I'm worried. Dru's, well, when she gets something into her head…"

"We'll make it through this," she looked down at him, "we're us. It's just what we do."

"Love you," he said, pulling her close and burrowing his face into her hair. "More than Dru, God, more than anything. Always, I promise."

"Do you think she really wants to take your soul?" Buffy asked, quietly, despite her efforts to be strong for Spike, her own fear was coming through in his embrace. "I know you'd still love me without, but Will, I love you, all of you. Demon and man, and if one left…"

"Won't happen," he cut her off.

"Promise?" Buffy asked him, softly.

"Promise." He affirmed, kissing the top of her head and pulling the blankets tighter around both of them.

Outside, a dark haired vampire looked up as the lights in the large Victorian house went out.

"Soon," she giggled, "soon I'll have my boys back. And it will be just like old times, we'll paint the town red, and they'll take their sunshine… yes, my prince will have his Slayer." Drusilla swirled around, her full-length black dress following in her wake.

"Hush, Drusilla, they'll hear you," said the tall brunette man standing beside her, hands shoved into his slacks, short hair perfectly cut and brushed. "We want to surprise them, don't we?"

"Yes," she sighed, "and we'll have a party, Miss Edith says it will be the party I missed." The man barely restrained the roll of his eyes before he looked over to the room where he could faintly hear moans sliding into the night air through the open window. "And you will have your reward," she promised. "Yes, when we're done with her, it will be your turn. Such a merry little game we'll have."


End file.
